Endgame
by Lyselle
Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are as safe as victors like them can get, tucked away into the underground sanction that is District 13. Caught while trying to escape his burning district is Gale Hawthorne, prisoner of the Capitol.
1. Ashes

_**Endgame**_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games.<strong>

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><p><em>"President Snow, the Mellark boy has escaped us. President Snow?"<em>

_"You let him escape?"_

_"Sorry, sir, but the rebels-"_

_"No matter. We'll snatch up the handsome cousin instead."_

_"Pardon, sir?"_

_"We're going to t__ake her cousin."_

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><p>"Should I come down, Katniss?" Peeta's voice comes through the headset I'm wearing.<p>

"No, I'm fine," I say into the microphone. I look up into the sky, trying to spot the near-invisible hovercrafts that District 13 sent with me for my 'safety'. The only sign that they might actually be there is a slight ripple in the perfect blueness as one of the crafts turns.

I stand in the midst of my home's remains. There are layers upon layers of ash over everything, the soot all perfectly settled. The dry summer offers no wind to blow it away or disturb the piles. The sun feels as though it's burning a hole through my scalp, but I try my best to ignore it and wander around my incinerated house.

_Here's the room that I shared with Prim, _I think to myself. _And there's the hearth. _It's nothing more than a pile of collapsed, charred bricks now.

"Only five more minutes," Peeta says, sounding genuinely sorry. "I tried to convince them to give you a little longer, but they said we have to get back right on time."

"It's fine, really. There's nothing much to do here, anyway."

I force myself to walk away from my house. I navigate the rest of the area that used to be the Seam, wanting to make one last visit. The path there is one that's embedded in my mind just as well as the directions to my own home. I find the house easily, even though the pile of ash that remains of it is even more pitiful than the remains of my own home.

Once I reach the site, I bend down in the ashes and sift through them, as if I can reconnect with the person who used to live here through the dust. I put my head in my now dirty hands, trying to recollect my thoughts before they run away from me.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. I am from District 12. I was in the Hunger Games twice. I escaped both times. The Capitol hates me. Gale was taken prisoner. We don't know if he's dead. I hope he's not dead. Or maybe it's better if he's dead.._

The District 13 officials tell me that Gale gathered as many people as he could during District 12's destruction and led them into the woods. They tell me that after that, he went back into the burning district to look for more survivors. They tell me that one of the Capitol hovercrafts recognized him as my 'cousin', and took him away. District 13's near invisible hovercrafts watched everything from the woods, they tell me, and they swooped in to rescue the survivors in the woods the next day.

It was the perfect cover, wasn't it? Pluck Gale from a burning district, and people will just think that he perished in the fire like so many others. No one would think that he was actually kidnapped by the Capitol, would they? I didn't believe the officials until they brought in some survivors who actually witnessed the event unfold to confirm the story. I apparently threw a fit after that and fell into a hallucination, although I don't remember it. They've had me on sedatives ever since, and I've only been allowed off them for a few days.

"Katniss?" Peeta says gently, once he realizes just exactly where I'm sitting.

"I'm okay," I say forcefully, trying not to let my voice shake. "I just need a few moments, and then you can pick me up."

I know all of this is my fault, even though everyone else half-heartedly tries to convince me otherwise. The bombing. The hostages. If I hadn't pulled that stupid berries stunt, District 12 would still be standing. If I hadn't pulled that berries stunt, Gale wouldn't have had to save all those people. If I hadn't pulled that berries stunt, Gale would still be here. Posy wouldn't have to pester her mother about Gale's whereabouts all the time, and Vick and Rory might actually smile. But if I hadn't pulled the berries stunt, Peeta would be dead.

I hold my head in my hands for a few moments, trying to stop myself from thinking about the messed-up situation too much. It must look like I'm having some sort of breakdown, though -sitting in the ashes of Gale's home, kneeling with my face in my palms- because Peeta's voice comes through my headpiece.

"They think you should come up now, Katniss," he says.

"One more minute," I reply, my voice on the verge of being pleading. But then I'm practically snarling as I add, "It's the least they can do for letting Gale be taken." I know there's District 13 officials monitoring mine and Peeta's conversation, so I'm not surprised when one of them comes on the line instead of Peeta.

"Please don't be unreasonable right now, Soldier Everdeen. It wasn't our place to interfere with the situation."

_Soldier Everdeen. _Everyone over the age of thirteen in District 13 is respectfully given the title of soldier. To call me a soldier seems like a mockery.

"You were fine with 'interfering' and taking the survivors to 13," I say angrily.

"They were in trouble and we helped them," the official responds impatiently.

_Well, Gale could've used some of your help right then too, couldn't he?_

"You can have this conversation with President Coin back in 13 if you like, but we have to leave now."

Alma Coin, the overseer of all of District 13's activities. Eyes the color of slush, gray hair that hangs in a strangely flawless curtain around her head. A conversation with her does not sound appealing.

"I won't be your Mockingjay."

"Soldier Everdeen-"

"I'm not bluffing. I have little to no reason to help you, and I won't if I don't feel like it."

The subject of the Mockingjay is a bit of a sore spot. They want me to be the face of the revolution. The leader. Although there's barely any thinking involved on my part, since everything is scripted for me and there's people to help me dress up, I'm still reluctant to say yes.

They could always use Peeta, because he is much more sane than me at the moment and better at getting his message across, but they say that they want either both of us to do it together, or only me. After all, I am the one who pulled out those berries. I am the one who volunteered for my sister and shot an arrow into that chink in the forcefield.

Besides, their only other choices are an old victor, Beetee, who's very willing to help but not exactly what they picture as the face of the rebel movement. The second alternative is Finnick Odair, who has the looks for the part, but not the willingness or sanity. He can barely stay conscious for more than five minutes, let alone lead a revolution. They say his sluggish recovery is due to an electric shock he got in the arena, but I know better. He can't help worrying about Annie (also taken by the Capitol) and he probably thinks it's better to sleep through the whole thing instead of having to think all the time. That's a choice I don't have. I've already scarred Prim enough with my nightmares and throwing things at officials, so I'm making an effort to appear normal, if only for her sake.

There's a bit of shuffling and murmuring before the official says bitterly, "You have been granted three more minutes."

To be honest, I mainly only argued for more time to irritate the officials, because I've already almost all there is to see of the remains of District 12. But I intend to use up my full three minutes, if only to annoy the officials even further.

I linger a few more moments by Gale's house, and eventually turn to leave. I stop, though, when I spot a little fleck of silver in the ash. I walk towards the spot, wondering what it could possibly be. In my experience, ash is never silver and does not catch or reflect light. I approach the bit of silver and brush away ash from it to reveal a slightly deformed and dented ring.

My heart beating just a little bit faster with my discovery, I pick up the ring and clean off all of the soot as best as I can. I stare at it for a few moments, and then slip it onto my index finger, but it almost slides off of it and into the ash. I then put it on my thumb, where it fits snugly. I'll give it to Hazelle when we get back to District 13.

Having no where else to go, and with two more minutes to waste, I walk towards my home in the Victor's Village, where I had been living for the past year. The Victor's Village is the only place that remained untouched throughout the bombing, and I can't help but feel a chill as I walk through the door. I silently meander through the first floor of the house, picking up small things along the way until I have a small heap. A picture of my parents. A ribbon of Prim's. Our book of herbs and plants. I stuff them all into my game bag, which I find lying around in the kitchen.

A faint hiss startles me and I turn around, not knowing what to expect. I take in the small creature in front of me, staring at his mangled coat and ugly eyes. Buttercup.

"So you survived the bombing somehow, huh?" I ask him, taking a step forward. The cat retreats.

"Come, on. I have to take you along for Prim," I say snappily, and he perks up at her name. I take advantage of his moment of weakness and scoop him up and into my bag. He hisses again, but I make a harsh shushing sound and he becomes quiet for the moment.

I sprint up the stairs, the game bag reminding me of one last thing I need to take with me.

My headset crackles. "Katniss, you really have to come now. They're getting angry," Peeta says, his voice the slightest bit uneasy.

"One last thing, I promise. I'll be right out in a second," I say hurriedly, navigating the hallway.

I open the door to my bedroom and make a beeline for the closet. Flinging open the doors, I find my father's hunting jacket on a hanger. I breath a sigh of relief and remove it from the hanger, putting my bag down. I slip the jacket on and the soft leather fills me with a sense of familiarity, remembering all of those hours wrapped up in it. The jacket has also come to connect itself with Gale in my mind, though, and my heart aches as I remember all of the time we spent together in the woods. Before I lose my mind, I take the jacket off and shove it into my overflowing bag, making sure not to suffocate Buttercup.

Buttercup hisses in protest. "Shut up, you worthless cat," I say to the bag, although I can't blame him for crying out. My old, overcrowded bag isn't the most ideal way to travel.

I'm about to exit the room when I notice the faint smell of rose floating in the air. My palms grow sweaty as I turn around to find the source of the wicked fragrance. My eyes scanning the room, I spot a perfectly white, snow-colored rose on the dresser, looking as if it were carelessly tossed there. I know better. Ignoring Buttercup's crescendoing wails, I inch towards it cautiously, as if it could bite me.

"You need get out right now, Katniss."

I jump at the sound of Peeta's voice.

"I-I'm coming," I stammer, and then repeat in what I hope is a stronger voice, "I'm coming right now."

Not looking back at the rose, I dash out of the room and run down the stairs, suddenly paranoid. I imagine some sort of twisted monster with blood-tainted breath is chasing me and I run faster, cursing Buttercup under my breath as he thrashes about in the bag.

I hope the officials and Peeta can't see how hard I'm breathing as I emerge from the house. I force myself to slow down and breath slowly through my nose until my heart rate steadies. There's a slight hum as a hovercraft comes lower to the ground and drops a ladder for me. I grab onto it and a current keeps me frozen to the rungs. Once I'm pulled up, Peeta is the first to see me and asks me if I'm okay.

I manage a smile and say, "I'm fine."

We leave for District 13 with no more questions asked.

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><p><strong>(AN)**

**So what did you think of that? Any feedback is appreciated :D It seems a bit far-fetched, but the idea's been nagging at me for a while and I just had to try it out.**


	2. Sight

_**Endgame**_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the quoted lyrics.<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

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><p><em>"Is he cooperating?" <em>

_"Seems so, sir." _

_"No rebellion nonsense? Remember, this one was fiesty." _

_"No rebellion talk." _

__"Well, then, bring him over."__

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><p>As we approach District 13, I can't help but think about how much it looks like District 12 from the outside. Nothing but rubble and scattered remains of buildings. On the inside, though, it can't be any more different from how District 12 used to be. District 13 is strictly controlled. Supplies -even something like a scrap of paper- are regulated, food portions are carefully measured out, and they even have a schedule for everyone. Printed on your arm in the morning with pale purple ink, the schedule is to be strictly followed.<p>

Breakfast- 7:00

Kitchen duties- 7:30

And it goes on and on until bath time (22:00), when the ink breaks down and dissolves in the water and your forearm is clear until the next morning. There's barely any time for exercise and we're almost never allowed outside, only when our schedule permits once or twice a week. I feel as though I'm in a comatose down here, without my woods and sun and bow and arrows.

I've been able to avoid the constrictive time table for a while, what with me being sick in the medical center for so long, but now I'm required to have the schedule imprinted on me, even though I don't usually follow it. I mostly wander around aimlessly, sleeping in places where no one- not even Peeta- can find me. No one bothers me because I'm mentally unstable according to the plastic bracelet wrapped around my wrist. I wonder how long I can keep the half-baked charade going.

I barge into the compartment I share with my mother and sister (number 307) and dump the contents of my game bag on the floor, including Buttercup. I doubt they'll be asking any questions about my trip. Between Gale and the bombing and the Games, most of the time everyone thinks I'm a time bomb, just waiting to set off at the slightest provocation.

Prim and Buttercup share a tearful reunion, while my mother hugs the wedding picture to her chest and gingerly places it on our chest of drawers. She takes the book of plants and herbs from my hands and places it next to the picture, running her fingers over the cover. I hang my father's hunting jacket in the closet and nervously finger the ring on my thumb.

"I found something in the ashes of G-Gale's house," I say, fumbling over his name. I haven't said it out loud in such a long time. "I'm going to go give it to Hazelle." My mother nods tersely and Prim only looks up at me for a second, her attention immediately going back to that wretched cat.

I head out the door, forcing my feet to go one after another before I change my mind and run back to the illusion of safety that my compartment offers. I knock on the door of the Hawthornes' compartment, and a distracted-sounding Hazelle shouts, "Come on in."

I open the door, and step inside to see that their room is in total chaos. The kids have all thrown around their gray clothes district-appointed clothes and messed up the linens, making it look as if a tornado hit the room. Rory is wrestling with Vick on the bed, and Posy's sitting next to them, clapping her hands and cheering Vick on. They all fall silent, though, when they see me. Rory drops his eyes while Vick looks around awkwardly. It's only Posy that runs up to me.

"Katniss!" she cries, wrapping her arms around my legs and looking up at me. "Have you found Gale yet?"

I try to keep my lip from trembling.

"No, not yet Posy," I say, horribly failing at trying to smile at her.

She frowns.

"We'll try to find him soon, though," I say, attempting to cheer her up.

Her face brightens with false hope. "That's good!" she says, turning towards her brothers, "Gale's coming soon!"

She is met by silence.

Seemingly unfazed, though, she hobbles over to the bed, resuming her comfortable spot on the mattress. She picks up a simple doll that is offered to all of the children in 13, and that's the end of the conversation.

I wriggle the ring off of my finger.

"I-I found this by your house," I say, holding it out to Hazelle.

She looks at it for a while, and then gingerly reaches out and takes the ring from me. Inspecting it, she looks up at me with a slight frown.

"It's a ring that was passed down on my husband's side of the family. I thought G-Gale sold this ages ago," she says, "when Posy was born and we needed the food."

She pauses.

"Must've hidden it from me," she says with a sad laugh, almost choking on her words. She averts her eyes, and I can see them glistening with tears in the artificial light. Hazelle could take her husband's death, but she can't be expected to take her oldest son's capture just as easily. It's not possible.

"He never was one to listen to others, was he?" she says, her voice slightly watery. Posy's head snaps up, sensing a change in her mother's mood. She walks over to Hazelle and wraps her arms around her mother's legs. Hazelle absentmindedly pats her tangle of hair in return.

"You keep it," she says, holding out the ring to me.

"That's ridiculous," I say before I can stop myself. "It's yours, you have to keep it. It's probably the one thing you have left of District 12." I look around the room and see that I'm wrong. Gale's bow and arrows set lies in the corner, probably salvaged from the woods.

"I can't have another reminder of them around. Please, take it Katniss," she says, almost pleading. My heart breaks at her tone and I reluctantly take the ring back. I slip it securely around my thumb again.

"T-thank you," I say, turning to leave. I pause for a moment, hesitating slightly before pulling Hazelle into a hug, almost crushing Posy in the process. We grip each other like lifelines for a few minutes, Posy caught between us, while the rest of the kids watch. These are probably the only people who feel Gale's absence the way I do.

"We _will _find him," I whisper, pulling away. I'm in danger of crying myself after a quick sweep of the room imprints everyone's heartbroken faces into my mind. "We will find him," I repeat like a mantra, "we will."

I leave the compartment without another word.

_We will find him, _I think ferociously. _Damn President Snow and his prison and his bloody roses. He won't keep Gale._

I meet Peeta in the hallway.

"We were looking for you," he says hurriedly, his voice the slightest bit frantic. "We need to go to Command right now."

"I don't want another Mockingjay meeting," I snap, and immediately regret my harsh tone. None of this is Peeta's fault. He seems unfazed, though.

"No, no. It's not that. Come see for yourself. Please, Katniss," he says, tugging gently on my arm.

I wonder what could be so urgent. Peeta is not a huge fan of the war and Mockingjay-related meetings, so he wouldn't drag me into one of those. With him still holding my forearm, we run through the hallways, twisting and turning until we arrive at Command. Peeta and I enter, and I see that everyone's already gathered around a large TV set, gravely staring at whatever's on the screen. Peeta gently nudges me forward, and everyone parts to make way for me. I suddenly see the importance of whatever's on the television.

There's Caesar Flickerman, with his powder blue lips and hair, sitting on a chair, looking a bit uneasy, as if he was forced into doing this interview. But most importantly, opposite him sits one of the many people that haunt my dreams these nights.

"Gale," I breath, and everyone's eyes flick to me for a moment. I don't care. "Gale!"

I race towards the screen, laying a hand on it. I drink in his face, not quite believing that it's really him. He's completely flawless, any signs that he was in a burning district before gone. There's no signs of any injuries, but he does look thinner. Weaker. I stay in my spot, afraid that if I move I'll never see him again.

"So, Gale Hawthorne. Katniss Everdeen's cousin," Caesar says as a way of introduction.

I know how Gale's going to reply before I hear the words. By the look in his eyes, I see they still haven't taken away his fire. It comforts me just a tiny bit. "She's not my-" he snaps, but then stops suddenly, looking at something over Caesar's head. He puts on his emotional mask. "Yes, my cousin," he says. I frown. _What the hell?_

"I remember interviewing you during the 74th Games, when your cousin was one of the last tributes remaining. Everyone I asked led me to you, boy. That was quite enjoyable, wasn't it?" Caesar says, obviously trying to warm Gale up.

Gale's expression remains hard. "Enjoyable," he echoes dully. His gaze keeps flicking unconsciously to that area over Caesar's head. What is it there?

"So, I'm sure you've heard about the rebel movement. Do you know what part your cousin plays in it?" Caesar asks, moving on.

Anger flares up in me. They're using him to get information, when he doesn't have any, except for whatever the Capitol has filled them in on. True, Gale has been a rebel since birth, but he had no involvement in this particular plot. What is Snow trying to do?

"My cousin," he says, spitting out the last word, "didn't have any say in what happened to her. I don't recall her ever mentioning such a thing as rebellion. Whatever this movement is, she has no part in it."

_No, Gale, don't try to spare me while you're in the hands of the Capitol. They probably already know everything._

"Did you know anything about the plot's existence before the 75th Hunger Games?" Caesar asks.

"No," Gale says, his jaw twitching.

"They must've known something, and maybe someone let something slip...," Caesar trails off.

"They didn't know anything!" Gale snaps, his voice rising. "In the arena, did it look like she knew anything? I saw the tapes. Neither her or Peeta knew what they were doing! They were just trying to win your damned Games!"

"Do you think their mentor might've known anything about it?" Caesar asks, looking significantly more uncomfortable.

"They shouldn't have trusted him. That's all I can say," Gale says, anger etched in his face.

"Do you think the rebellion is the right way to go?" Caesar asks, and his tone implies that he's expecting a flat-out no.

"Hell, yes," Gale says, leaning forward in his seat and turning his face towards the camera, "How else do you think this is all going to end-"

The connection cuts off, and the TV shows static instead of the broadcast.

"They'll kill him!" I say, my eyes widening with Gale's response. I back away from the TV. "They'll kill him! Oh god, what the hell did he just do?"

Everyone starts to murmur among themselves, but no answers my question.

"Well, at least we know he's on our side," Coin's voice rings out. I turn around, my eyes flashing. I try to run at her, but someone holds me back. I jerk away from the touch, and instead feel the familiarity of Peeta's hand on my shoulder. He blocks me off from the Capitol guard who reached towards me, his blue eyes blazing. It wasn't an aggressive touch, but I've been hyper sensitive to any contact with strangers ever since the Arena.

"Damn you and your stupid rebellion," I say to Coin, my voice dripping with venom. "They have Gale. What if he _dies_? Do you not care at all?"

"I doubt they'll kill him," Coin says, her voice not frazzled. "Besides, if he did, it would be for a greater cause."

Fuming, I yell a few choice words that not even a drunken Haymitch would use at her. Peeta tugs on my arm, gently trying to lead me away from the scene. I can hear someone mumble to Coin about me being mentally unstable.

"You haven't been dismissed," a guard says when Peeta and I start to exit.

I'm about to yell at the guard and scratch him if necessary, but Coin's words stop me.

"Let her go," she says dismissively. I open my mouth to say something rude, but Peeta hushes me.

"Come on, Katniss," he says gently. I clench my jaw, still shaking slightly, but he loops his arm with mine and heads towards the door. "Let's go."

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><p><strong>(AN)**

**Thanks to anyone who reviewed or read the last chapter :D**


	3. Thought

_**Endgame**_

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><p><strong><strong>Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the quoted lyrics.<strong>**

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><p><strong><strong>Chapter 3<strong>**

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><p><em>"I thought you said he was cooperating."<em>

_"My apologies, sir, I-"_

_"Forget it, forget it. We'll just have to show him just how powerful we are, won't we?"_

_"I don't quite understand-" _

_"Bring him to me." _

_"Pardon?"_

__"I'll have to show him what we can do myself."__

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><p>I start to go off to the hiding spot I've visited for the past few days, the school supplies closet. It's a new favorite because no one seems to have any use for it. District 13 lacks any children that would need to be educated. The district's birthrate was flattened by a pox epidemic a while ago, making them desperate for a new gene pool. According to a breeder from District 10, that's why they've helped the refugees for so long, in hopes that they'll have kids and live here, making the population slowly grow.<p>

District 13 has to be given credit, though, for staying alive against all odds. No connections with the outside world, a Capitol that hopes that they'll die out, and everyone else thinking they've already vanished. A life of isolation, but everyone in 13 is used to it, and they've taken advantage of it as best as they can, training a whole army of soldiers ready to fight. The rebellion has been their plan all along.

Once I nestle myself between two boxes of paper and notebooks, I hear footsteps coming towards the closet. I bury myself deeper into the boxes, heart pounding and nails ready if I need to claw at anyone. When the person opens the door, though, I see that it's Peeta. I exhale slowly as he takes a seat in front of me, sitting with his knees pulled up in front of him.

"Are you okay?" he asks. He uses that tone of voice that's special to him, and can make you think everything will be alright.

"I'm fine," I say, although it's a lie. Peeta picks up on it immediately.

"I can tell you're not fine, Katniss," Peeta replies, and I can almost see his sad smile, even though the closet is pitch black save for the thin light coming through the bottom of the door.

"I'm as fine as someone like me can expected to be," I say finally, which is the truth.

"Yeah. That makes two of us," Peeta says, leaning back.

I feel a pang of selfishness. Peeta's been looking out for me ever since we came to 13, and I've not even bothered to check in with him.

"So, how've you been? We haven't had a real conversation in ages," I say, closing my eyes briefly. I try to forget Gale for a moment, just long enough so I can catch up with Peeta. But thoughts of him linger in the back of my mind no matter how hard I try.

"I'm fine," he says with a sigh.

A new thought suddenly hits me and I almost slap myself for being so ignorant and selfish. Guilt fills me from head to toe as I open my mouth to speak.

"H-how, um, how's your family?" I ask, wincing inwardly.

Peeta's eyes fill with sadness for a moment, but the emotion quickly disappears. "I know it's wrong of me to say, but I don't really care about her. That makes me a bad son, doesn't it? But I just can't bring myself to care that much."

The baker and his two oldest sons survived the bombing with Gale's guidance, but the baker's wife did not make it.

"You're one of the kindest people I've ever met, Peeta," I say softly, looking at him through the darkness. I reach over and squeeze his hand to make sure he knows I'm being serious. "You can't possibly blame yourself for not caring so much about her."

If Peeta died, I doubt his mother would've cared much. She probably would've made a snide comment about it being one less brat to look after. That's harsh of me, but I know that it's at least partially true.

After a few minutes, our hands are still clasped together. I ask softly, "What do you think they're doing to Gale? Didn't you see the way he kept looking at something over Caesar's head?"

"I honestly don't know, Katniss," he replies, his grip on my hand getting tighter.

"After the connection cut off, what might've happened to him?" I ask, my voice dropping to barely a whisper. "What could they do to him?"

"They might torture him for information," Peeta says, visibly flinching as if it pains him to say the words. "I wouldn't put it above the Capitol."

"And that last question about the rebellion," I say, "that obviously wasn't the answer they wanted. They're probably torturing him."

"We just have to hope for the best," Peeta replies. _Like we always have, _I add silently.

I tremble slightly at the thought of Gale being tortured a second time. I doubt his back has fully healed in the first place, and just the thought of another whip coming down on him makes a small sob escape my lips. I scoot closer to Peeta, needing someone human to anchor me. I feel like I might go crazy with all of the possibilities.

I brought this onto Gale. Right now, the Capitol could be slowly killing him, all because he's my 'cousin' and they want information he doesn't have. I think of Posy's false hope and the dullness in Hazelle's eyes and my guilt only deepens, eating away at me. I'm guilty of being selfish all of the time and inflicting pain on people. Could you find a worse person?

I gently remove my hand from Peeta's and fiddle with the ring on my right thumb, running my hand over the dented surface and trying to draw energy from it. Trying to connect with Gale through it, willing myself not to forgot a single detail of his face, his expressions, his voice. The last time I saw Gale was the day when they took me away for the Quarter Quell. That could've been a hundred years ago for all I know.

"What's that?" Peeta asks gently, looking curiously at the ring.

"A ring of his. Of Gale's," I say, casting my eyes down. "I found it during the trip to 12."

"Oh," Peeta says, nodding in understanding. I slip the ring on and off my finger, turning it in my hands.

"What are we going to do?" I ask.

"We'll look out for each like we always do, won't we? And we'll try to catch up with life and the rebellion... and I don't know what else. What do you have in mind?" Peeta asks me.

I think of Gale and the bombing and Rue and the citizens who've already lost their lives and the berries and Cinna. I think of the black and white wings he gave me, and I raise my arms slightly, as if remembering them.

"I'm going to be the Mockingjay," I decide suddenly. "I'll do what they want me to do, as long as it'll save Gale and the rest of Panem along with it."

At night I toss and turn in bed, desperately trying to sleep. I soon realize, though, that my attempts are futile and that I'll never be able to sleep this way. With Buttercup's unnerving gaze on me, I make my way across the room, past my sleeping mother and Prim, and towards our chest of drawers. I open the second drawer, where a few things that managed to survive the arena lay.

I sift through my gray district-issued uniforms and grope the bottom of the drawer for the items. My fingers finally come in contact with my Mockingjay pin, a spile that Haymitch sent me in the Arena, the pearl that Peeta found and gave me, and Peeta's district token, the gold locket. My bow and arrows are in weaponry, because only guards are allowed to be armed. The only reason Hazelle was able to keep Gale's bow and arrows set was because it's falling apart, and not of much use as a weapon. I make a mental to somehow fix it up for if, _when_, Gale returns.

I open the locket and inside I find the pictures of my mother, Prim, and a smiling Gale. I wonder how Peeta managed to get a recent picture of Gale smiling, since he barely ever did so, except in the woods. Carefully placing the rest of items back into the drawer, I sit back down on my bed with the locket and Gale's ring. In the moonlight, I inspect the photo of Gale, and after I'm done taking it in, I put it back into the locket and slip the chain over my head. The ring remains in my hands.

After a few quiet minutes, Prim wakes up and I hear the mattress creak as she gets off of it and pads over to where I'm sitting. She settles herself beside, her legs crossed. "What's wrong, Katniss?" she asks. I turn my head and smile at her, briefly, forgetting my troubles. Everything I've ever done is for the little blonde girl in front of me.

I plant a kiss on her head. "Nothing, Little Duck," I say automatically, unconsciously putting the ring back onto my thumb. Prim notices the movement.

"What's that?" she asks, pointing at my thumb.

"A ring," I say, stating the obvious. Prim gives me a small smile.

"I know that, Katniss. But where'd it come from?" she asks, curious.

"When we went to District 12, I found it by Gale's house," I say, telling her the truth.

"Oh," she says, and nods. Peeta's exact reaction. "You miss him a lot, don't you?" she asks, looking up to my face.

"I do," I admit, hugging Prim close to me. I cling to her for a few minutes, stroking her hair and letting my guard down.

"I can tell that's not the only thing on your mind, Katniss. What else is going on?" she asks after a while. I'm both bewildered and amazed at her perceptiveness.

"How would you know that, Little Duck?" I ask.

"I've lived with you for my whole life, Katniss. I know you almost as well as Gale does," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. I wince a little at the mention of Gale, but quickly recover. I laugh and swat at her with a pillow.

Suddenly all serious, Prim adds, "I can keep secrets. Even from mother. I know that there's only so much she can take."

My brows furrow together. Where did this wise little thirteen year old girl come from?

I finally relent and say, "I'm going to tell them I'll be the Mockingjay tomorrow. But I still need a way to make sure that they save Gale. Any advice?" I ask, not expecting a serious answer. District 13 is hesitant to send off supplies and hovercrafts and soldiers on a wild good chase to bust out Gale.

"You can make President Coin announce it in front of a lot of people. That could put some pressure on her," Prim says thoughtfully, and I wonder how my little sister thought of that and I didn't.

"How did you-"

"I've learned a lot," Prim says, her tone the slightest bit bitter. I sling an arm around her again.

"Anything else? You're proving to be a lot more useful than I thought you would be," I say, my tone light and teasing.

"You could ask them for anything else you want. They really need their Mockingjay, so I guess they'll agree to whatever you say. I'm too tired to think up of anything else," Prim says, yawning.

I kiss the top of her forehead. "You've helped plenty, Little Duck. Thank you." Prim gives me a drowsy nod and climbs back into bed with my mother, because the tiny bed that I sleep on is not nearly large enough for both of us now. Prim has gotten taller in the past year and a half, due to all of the food we received in the Victor's Village.

A sense of pure relief fills me, the kind that only comes with a definite solution to a problem. Prim's strategy is logical, and it'll probably work. And if it doesn't, I can just pull the whole I'll-never-be-your-Mockingjay thing again, and they'll have to agree. They'll have to.

I fall asleep with Gale's picture looped around my neck and his ring on my thumb. That along with my new-found confidence helps me a get a decent night's sleep.

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><p><strong>(AN)**

**I know Peeta's family didn't make it through the bombing, but I just felt so bad killing them all off, so I let them live. Comments are always welcome :D**


	4. Beginning

_**Endgame**_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the quoted lyrics.<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

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><p><em>"Nothing seems to affect him."<em>

_"What do you mean?" _

_"We're not getting any information out of him."_

_"Keep trying."_

_"Sir, I'm not sure he even has any information. Don't you think this is pointless?"_

_"I told you to keep trying."_

_"Yes, sir."_

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><p>Command is the second thing on mine and Peeta's schedule the next day. Might as well present my plan to Coin before I start to rethink my decision. After my family, Peeta's family, and the Hawthornes eat breakfast all together, Peeta and I head down to the Command room. On the way there, I fill him in on my little plan, and he actually smiles a bit.<p>

"I bet that'll work," he says. "They really need you to be the Mockingjay, Katniss. They'll give you the moon if that's what you want."

We continue to walk in silence until he adds, "You know you don't have to do this if you're not comfortable, Katniss. And if you need me to be there with you, I'd be happy to help." I pause for a second, standing on my tiptoes to hug him. I don't know what caused the sudden burst of uncharacteristic affection, but Peeta's still so pure hearted and untainted by everything that's happened to him. He's too good for me.

"Thank you, Peeta," I say, pulling away. "I need to do this, though. The rebellion's gone too far for me to just drop out and decide I don't feel like ending what I started."

Peeta nods.

Once we arrive, Plutarch, Coin, and all of their other required members are already assembled, patiently waiting in their own seats. As soon as Peeta and I walk in, I ask for a piece of paper and pencil so I can list all of my conditions. My accumulating mental notes have become too jumbled up to make much use of. Everyone in the room is surprised by my sudden sign of interest in the rebellion. Coin personally hands me a piece of paper and pencil, shooting me a smile before settling back down into her seat. I could've done without the smile.

I start my list, and everyone busies themselves with other tasks, trying not to look at me. First comes the obvious. Gale's immunity, announced in public. After that, though, I struggle to come up with anything else. What else could I possibly ask for in a place like District 13? I keep racking my brain for ideas, knowing very well this is probably the only opportunity I have for bargaining with Coin.

I don't know where I get the idea from, but I add Buttercup to the list for Prim's sake. The concept of useless pets is not well-known in 13.

A few minutes later, I add hunting to the list.

People are starting to get impatient, and I can hear some fiddling with pencils or tapping their foot on the floor.

I try to take a mental step back. Look at the big picture. There has to be something I'm missing. There's only three items on my list. Closing my eyes briefly, I feel a surge of anger and write down messily, _I kill Snow. _When he's captured, I want to do it. I need to do it so that I can know for sure he's dead and gone.

"I'm done," I announce, pushing the paper away slightly from me. Coin looks up.

"Well, let's hear whatever you want to say. There's not much time left," she says, glancing at her communicuff.

"I'll be your Mockingjay," I say as a way of starting. I pause, making time for the mandatory sighs of relief and slaps on the back that follow. "But I have conditions." Everyone falls silent.

"My family gets to keep our cat," I say. Chatter erupts in the room. I share a glance with Peeta and he shrugs. I thought this would be the least bothersome condition, but judging by the arguments going around, it's still a pretty big deal. I wonder how everyone will react to the other conditions I have in mind.

"Silence!" Coin says after a few minutes of absorbing all of the different viewpoints. "Let them keep their cat. They'll be moved to a compartment on the top floor, one with a small window. He will be expected to feed himself, Soldier Everdeen, and if he misses curfew, he'll be shot."

I nod. It doesn't sound too bad, except for the bit about shooting him. I'll tell Prim to keep a careful eye on him.

"I want to hunt outside," I say, deciding that it's best to go in order of my tiniest requests to my bigger ones. "I'll give all of the meat to the kitchen and I'll use my own bow." Everyone has to mull over this one for a bit. Quickly, before too many people can object, I add, "It'll help me get better. Fresh air would be good for me."

"You would need someone to accompany you," Coin says, her eyes cutting into mine. I close my fist around my thumb, feeling the dented metal of Gale's ring. Coin's gaze shifts to Peeta. "You'll be given permission if he goes with you."

"Okay," Peeta says. I look at him questioningly. He can't take a single step without scaring off all of the game. But he's my only option. They won't let me go without him.

"Sounds good," I say in a falsely happy voice.

"Of course, you'll have tracking anklets and communication units. Quarter-mile radius only," Coin adds. Plutarch starts to say something about the risk of injuries, but Coin cuts him off. "Let them. What else?"

"I'll have to do all this with Peeta," I say, and by the look that passes between everyone I can tell they expected this.

"Done," Coin says. "It will be better like that, anyway." She's right. Peeta can use words to convey any message he wants while I fumble over them and end up making a mess.

"We'll keep the romance thing going," Plutarch says, jotting down a few notes. "He'll be by your side at all times." I suddenly feel a pang of guilt as I think about how Gale would react to this. Clenching my fist around the ring, I force myself to nod. I'll never be able to do this alone.

"Anything else on that list of yours?" Coin asks.

I pause. "You'll do whatever you can to rescue Gale," I say. Dead silence. I know I shouldn't add it, but I do anyway, "And the other prisoners. Annie and Johanna. And Enobaria." I barely know Enobaria, dislike her, even, but it doesn't feel right to leave her out.

"No," comes Coin's flat reply.

"Yes," I shoot back immediately. "You let Gale get taken. You let Annie and Johanna get taken."

"It wasn't our place to interfere with Gale. We have no association with his or Annie's capture whatsoever," Coin says coolly. "All of them will be tried as war criminals." Anger bubbles up in me. I feel Peeta's hand on my shoulder, but decide to ignore it.

"You could've saved Gale! You let him get taken! Your hovercrafts were just sitting while the Capitol snatched him up!" I say, my voice louder. I can feel myself rising out off my seat. "You will bring him and the others back!"

"Please sit down, Soldier Everdeen," Coin says, using her unfalteringly calm voice.

"No," I say, my voice firm and resounding in the tiny room. "You'll do your best to save them, and if they can't be saved, they'll be granted immunity! You'll pledge this in front of all of District 13, soon. Today, even. You and your government will be responsible for their safety, or you'll have to find yourselves another Mockingjay!"

"That's her. That's what we need," I hear a woman named Fulvia whisper oh-so-carefully to Plutarch. "Can't you see it? A bit of grime on her face, gunfire in the background."

I want to glare at them both, but I don't divert my attention from Coin.

"Katniss, I'm afraid a rescue mission can't be organized with our limited resources, especially since we're preparing to go at war," Plutarch says, and I finally tear my gaze away from Coin to look at him. He tilts his head so he's speaking to Coin. "You could issue an official pardon, though, President. Her cousin's barely even of age. Nineteen at the most, I'd guess."

"He's not my cousin," I snap. A look of confusion crosses the Capitol rebels' expressions, but the people of District 13 hardly look surprised. I look back at Coin. "He's nineteen," I say, confirming Plutarch's estimate.

Coin hesitates slightly before saying, "Fine. But you'd better hold up your end of the deal."

"I will once you make the speech," I retort.

"Call a national security assembly during Reflection," Coin says to Plutarch, "I'll make the announcement then. Anything else, Katniss?"

The paper in my hands has long since been crumpled into a ball.

"I kill Snow."

The ghost of a smile appears on Coin's lips. "When the opportunity comes, I'll flip you for it."

I nod. I'm not the only one with a claim on Snow's life.

Coin glances down at her communicuff again and starts out the door, her whole team following her. "They're in your hands, now," she tells Plutarch and Fulvia.

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><p><strong>(AN)**

**Thanks for reading, everyone! You might want to flip back to the beginning of each chapter, because I replaced the song lyrics with** **short dialogues to give insight into what's happening to Gale. **


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